


Paperfalls

by serenitysolstice



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Some silly fluff, but they're sweet so its fine, feels very ooc to me, hope you like it angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 14:11:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19152646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysolstice/pseuds/serenitysolstice
Summary: "This is your fault."OrMoira is the queen of efficiency. It's just a shame that her ideas aren't.





	Paperfalls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreenGirlintheTARDIS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenGirlintheTARDIS/gifts).



They stare at the desk in silence for nearly a minute. Angela can only blink slowly, watching the reams of paper spill out of the printer. Moira elbows her in the ribs.

"This is your fault." She says with a shrug. Angela's eyebrows shoot skywards, and she turns to the Irishwoman almost laughing.

"How could this possibly be my fault?" Moira had cobbled together the system in their basement, designed to provide constant feedback on the growing cultures stored there. All Angela had done was watch.

"This is what happens when you green light my ideas." Angela tries to hold back her giggle, playfully swats Moira's arm, and goes to turn the machine off.

"Honestly, I thought I'd learned my lesson after you flooded the greenhouse with that stupid irrigation system."

"Wait, don't turn it off! There might be something useful here." Moira wrenches Angela's arm back and starts collecting the paper that lay in a springing pile on the floor. Angela watches her with a fond smile.

"Why did you even bother with paper? Just email the results at the end of each day, then upload to a database. Easier to automate, too." Without looking up, Moira gestures at the computer.

"Open outlook."

"What?"

"Just open it." So Angela does. And her jaw drops.

"How, in the name of God, do you have eighteen thousand unread emails?" Moira stands and shrugs. Angela can barely see her behind meters of paper.

"My original plan was just sending myself the results. As you can see...things got a little out of hand."

"You could just check on the monitors daily. You know. Like normal people." She places a hand on Moira's back, and shifts her out of the way of the printer.

"Half the fun is in the process, Aingeal. Now, if you could just...take these...then I'll -" The first few folds of paper on her pile float to the ground, pushed by the stream still coming out of the antique machine. Angela turns off the printer.

"Sorry, schatz. No more printing, okay? If you want to set up a more efficient system, you should probably talk to Olivia. Or Hana." Moira rolls her eyes, sets the pile of paper on the desk and squashes it down.

"Absolutely not. You know what they're like. Absolutely no respect for what I'm trying to achieve."

"Then I guess you'll have to go back to checking up on things nightly." Moira visibly winces. As she goes to reply, the pile of paper springs up and over the desk, spilling back on  the floor. She groans at Angela's retreating, laughing form.

"Have fun!" She calls over her shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> This is easily the most ridiculous thing I've ever written, but I'm in the mood for cute and silly. Hope y'all didn't hate it!


End file.
